Things invisible to see
by sarcastic rabbit
Summary: This is Liam!fic and Shang!fic set during SOTL. Chapter 2 now up: Liam and Alanna from hook up to break up, all from Liam's point of view. Warning for some swearing.
1. Chapter 1

_**THINGS INVISIBLE TO SEE**_

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Disclaimer: Liam, the Shang and Song of the Lioness all belong to Tamora Pierce.

This story is, as always, for Sally and Fenella._**  
**_

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_If thou be'st born to strange sights, _

_Things invisible to see,_

_Ride ten thousand days and nights,_

_Till age snow white hairs on thee;_

_Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me_

_All strange wonders that befell thee,_

_And swear_

_Nowhere_

_Lives a woman true, and fair._

--John Donne (1573-1631), "Song"

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It was their third day out of port and Alanna was still puking. It was amazing how sick one small woman could be. The first two days Liam tried to be helpful, bringing hot tea and biscuits to the sour-smelling cabin below deck, wiping her face with a damp cloth and saying soothing things. He'd gotten snarled and sworn at for his trouble. 

This morning when he'd gone down, Thayet, who was marginally less sick than Alanna and Buri, had taken him aside and kindly suggested that he had more valuable things to do with his time than play nursemaid to three sea-sick women. Recognizing her well-bred double-talk for what it was, he asked her straight out what was more important than seeing his companions well and able to swallow food again. Thayet's lovely lips thinned ever so slightly. Even pinched and worn from sea-sickness, she was still beautiful. She let humour soften her irritation, telling him dryly that he was disgustingly healthy, and his very presence was offensive to women in their state. She said she spoke on behalf of all three of them: Leave us in our misery, or be prepared to dodge sick-pails and all contents there-of when you next visit.

Liam told her he bowed to her superior tactics, and could only hope to one day match her skills as a negotiator. Thayet didn't grin; she was a princess. But her dark eyes held a steely glint of triumph as she went back inside the cabin, head held high.

Liam shrugged and went aloft to the salty spray of the open air. He'd sailed enough in the past that his sea legs hadn't needed to be found so much as remembered. He liked traveling by sea: the clean smell of the breeze that gave him an enormous appetite and the challenge added to his morning workout. It was a game, to see if he could keep his footing without altering a single kick or jump. He tried to anticipate while still falling through space where the moving deck would meet his boots. The jolt he got in his stomach when he misjudged how close the surface was or the force with which it would try to toss him was fun, as were the stakes of the game; it would be embarrassing if he stumbled or fell in front of the sailors.

He didn't fall.

The sailors knew enough to keep their distance, after he'd thrashed three of their toughest the first night out of port. The only one who tried to talk to him was Goldenlake. The man seemed a good sort, for a noble. He had a solid soldier's temperament—down to earth, steady, a man you could count on in a fight. Liam didn't hold his fancy title or fancy armour against him. What he held against him was the way he'd gathered Alanna into a heartfelt embrace on seeing her. Liam knew he was being an idiot. The part of him that was a man with more than three decades of living said that it was too many kinds of ridiculous to count to be jealous over a woman that he'd let go of his own free will. The dragon in him hunched his back, drew in his head and brooded.

He spent hours at the stern, watching the landmass they'd left get further and further away. First the city slid out of sight. Next the contours of the landscape smoothed out into pure colours instead of shapes. The coast seemed to stay the same for hours. Then he'd be distracted by the crew getting yelled at by the first mate or take a meal in the galley. When he came back it would hit him sharp as a loss that the continent was noticeably smaller.

To the bow, port and starboard sides, the ocean waved and glinted under the sun, vast and alluring. Liam ignored it. His eyes were on the disappearing shore. It wasn't the country in front of him he saw. His gaze was several hundred miles further inland, on a green and hidden valley. There was a quiet grey temple in it, and a winding stream, and it was dotted with small wooden dwelling places and vegetable gardens. The one entrance was easy to miss unless you lived there; it was a narrow gap between two cliffs that looked like a dead end. Further in, the blind turn opened up between tree-covered mountains into a place that was both easily defensible and a trap.

Liam couldn't see the valley, but he still watched it go.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: They all belong to Tamora Pierce. Also, there is a lot of swearing in this part, and some bad grammar.  
_

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The first time Liam met Alanna the Lioness he believed it was coincidence. 

He was traveling south, she was journeying east; and if they both ended up staying at the same inn in Maren one night, well, it was all to the good. The Lioness' name was starting to be passed round the Eastern Lands as a curiosity—the first female knight in over a century—and Liam had a professional interest in seeing if her reputation as a fighter was deserved.

"Redheads should sit together for safety's sake," he told her by way of introduction in the crowded taproom that night. As lines went it wasn't a bad one, but the opposite was in fact true. They hit sparks off each other from their first words and both of them were the type to relish explosions. You didn't become a wandering warrior for the everyday boredom of the life after all.

Alanna was fascinating. She was short and freckled and feisty. Her initial reserve at meeting an elite Shang warrior vanished very quick, midway through their first drink, and for a noble speaking to a commoner she didn't stand on her dignity. She swore like a foot-soldier, guffawed rather than giggled and defended her opinions as though the fate of the world rested on her being right. She pelted him with questions about the Shang way of fighting, about which she knew nothing of real value, and Liam did his best to put her off—in part because he liked how she pretended not to fume when she didn't get her own way.

Alanna was outspoken and confident except when he flirted with her. Then she was oddly shy for a grown girl who'd lived a wide and varied life. She blushed like a sunrise in the stable when she told him the name of her horse and he just _looked_ at her, because next to his rangy and stolid grey, her "Moonlight" looked like the horse every girl dreams of owning when she's small: snow-white mane and tail, a golden coat, dainty hooves and white-tipped eyelashes over soft doe-eyes. It was not the sort of thing he expected from a war-hardened knight.

The Lioness kissed with enthusiasm, scowled at his teasing and fought like a fury when he tested her swordplay. She was every bit as quick as him. She was also Gifted and gods-touched, claiming the Great Mother Goddess as her patron. No joke.

Liam was inclined to believe her. Alanna was set apart by her physical and magical ability and the strangeness of her chosen life. Even in a small way, such as her looks, she stood out as a redhead with purple eyes. Who on the ever-lovin' earth has purple eyes? It was like something out of a silly romantic ballad—but then the gods weren't known for being subtle. So Liam was not overly surprised when he found himself going with Alanna as her lover to the ends of the known world in search of a legendary jewel, having picked up a beautiful dispossessed Princess and her tribal bodyguard along the way—purely by coincidence of course.

It was like living in a quest out of story and song. In the normal way of things, Liam was leery of anything to do with the gods, preferring to stay well clear of them. On the other hand, he already lived his own life on a somewhat heroic scale. For Alanna's sake, he was willing to go along with events this once rather than directing them. He even found himself teaching the Lady Knight his Shang unarmed fighting techniques, which astonished him when he bothered to question it. First of all he didn't take on students, ever. Second, she was far too old to learn a discipline as hard and all-encompassing as Shang. Yet she turned out to be a natural, picking it up so fast that he had a hard time being as tough on her as he remembered his teachers being on him. It wouldn't do for her to become even more over-confident than she already was.

And when their love affair died a natural death, the way every relationship Liam had with a woman always did, he still found himself trailing her across the Eastern Lands, every bit as much her follower as the rest of her rag-tag band of companions.

It puzzled Liam; why he stayed. The jewel was found, the princess was safe as could be and his affair with Alanna was done. There was no work for him to do on this journey, which wasn't even one of his own choosing, so why was he still here?

The thing that upset Liam most was that he didn't even _want_ to leave. It wasn't like him. For the last twenty years Liam had traveled alone. There was no human tie he couldn't cut; no one person he needed too bad to leave behind when he moved on. It was his chosen life. He was a lone warrior following the path of Shang, and he hadn't become one of the finest Shang of his generation by being a dumb sheep keeping after its shepherd.

Liam figured it out one night after another long day of riding a dusty road through the never-ending grass plains. They were all tired, worn out by weeks of hard travel, no decent hunting and the strain of having to keep alert for signs of trouble from the war.

They had broken camp, and he and the Lioness were arguing over whether they should follow the river and trust to their hunting and gathering skills, or risk going through villages to pick up supplies. They were both on edge to start with, and things fast heated-up till Alanna was shouting red-faced, "You can never just accept one of my decisions, can you? After all we've been through, all I've done, and you still don't trust me to know what I'm doing in even the simplest thing!"

Liam was taken right aback, because he trusted Alanna, more than he had anyone in a long time. He considered her an equal, and he could count the other people he had that kind of respect for on the fingers of one hand. He thought Alanna knew all this. The fact that she had her doubts meant he should tell her different, but he was feeling fed-up and resentful and his inner dragon wanted to let off some steam. What came out of his mouth was this:

"Name of god of brothel of fuck! Why didn' your parents take a walk in the five minutes you were conceived, you Hag-ridden excuse of a mishap by copulation."

Alanna didn't miss a beat. "Fuck you and the ground you stand on," she yelled. "I hope you go back to the stinking hole you came from!" For good measure she added a hand gesture that had caused a hundred-year feud between two ducal houses in Tusaine.

"Lass!" came from a shocked Coram. "Yer parents would roll over in their graves if they heard that kind o' language coming from their only daughter. Yer a Trebond an' a lady as well as a knight, an' I expect ye ta remember it." Coram glared as though his delicate blacksmith's ears were mortally offended.

"As though I didn't get those words from you in the first place, Coram," Alanna retorted furiously. "And why doesn't the _Dragon_ get in trouble for foul language? Surely it's against his famous Shang Code of _Honour_," she spat out.

"The God didn' see fit t' leave our Order instructions on the subject of cursin'," Liam drawled. "He seemed t' think other matters such as the protection of the innocent an' the maintenance of peace were more pressin'. No doubt your Code of Chivalry has different priorities, Lady Knight."

"Al'right, that's enough!" Coram said, before Alanna could get out the reply clearly waiting to leap off her tongue. "Not another word out o' the two o' ye. Ye can both take first watch, on _opposite_ sides o' camp." He cracked his large knuckles threateningly. His snapping black eyes dared them to think they could get away with misbehaving. Coram muttered, "Though where the pair o' ye find the strength ta argue, I'll never know."

Liam was starting to feel as wrong-footed as Alanna was looking shame-faced. The whole thing made him irritated as a horse maddened by blood-flies. He looked over at Thayet, whose face held weary amusement, and Buri, who was openly rolling her eyes in disgust.

"I thought your family was from Maren," Thayet said to him.

"They are."

"But I've only ever know the Carthaki to swear by the Hag."

"I've traveled a lot," Liam said, more curt than she deserved, and went to stand watch. He wanted time to think.

He wasn't the sort of man to use that kind of language in front of a woman. It showed a level of comfort with Alanna that bothered him, much like the knowingly amused looks that had been directed their way. Neither thing had happened to him for a very long time, which was likely why he hadn't seen this coming. Not that it was any excuse. Liam wasn't treating Alanna like a past lover. He was treating her like family. All along he had been so wrapped up in trying to figure out if his behaviour was a result of the gods-induced pull Alanna seemed to have on the people around her that he had completely missed the point. It was his own fault he was still here. He had been blind.

Liam berated himself for an idiot as the sun went down and the cool dark air filled with the chirrups and flutters of night creatures. It was obvious now that he saw it. He had fallen into the habit of treating Alanna like she was Shang. Easy enough to do when half the time she was already there. It explained why he was always getting frustrated with her, for falling short of the mark. His disappointment was unreasonable, because as close as Alanna sometimes seemed, she wasn't raised Shang. She'd never be Shang. It was unfair to her, and the fact that Liam hadn't known what he was doing didn't make it any better.

He retreated into himself over the next few weeks of travel. He was short and testy with the others to the point where Coram asked straight out what was wrong with him. Liam made up some answer about needing to concentrate on the safety of their party through dangerous territory and ignored the hurt and baffled looks that Alanna gave him when she thought he wasn't watching.

Because Alanna didn't need him. He well knew that she had others apart from the ever-loyal Coram waiting for her back in Tortall: a twin brother, an adopted father, her Prince and the various other knights, teachers, nobles and City-folk who'd helped her grow up. She missed them sorely and loved them with the deep and unstinting affection she gave to the lucky ones she considered friends.

So Liam made himself a bargain: he'd see Alanna and the others to the coast, and when she sailed for Tortall he'd take his leave.

As a plan it worked just fine until they got to the port city to find a sleek courier ship waiting for them in dock, flying the Tortallan flag. Their young giant of a messenger turned out to be head of the Tortallan army. He greeted Alanna like a long-lost sister and proceeded to turn her world upside-down. Her young Prince was now King, his parents both dead, his kingdom in turmoil and an evil sorcerer back from the dead. Liam had once had the fortune of meeting said sorcerer many years ago, and had thought him a dangerous man; far too ambitious and brilliant to be _his_ choice of heir to a throne. Not a man who'd ever be content to simply eye your seat and mind his own business. Liam couldn't imagine that being dead had improved the sorcerer in any way.

Alanna, somber-faced, was clearly already home in her thoughts and at her liege's side. Still she turned to Thayet and Buri to convince them to return to Tortall with her, assuring them that she, if not her King, would gladly find them a new place in her country and safe shelter from their civil war. Then she looked at him.

Alanna's eyes became full of unexpected pleading. "What will you be doing next, Liam?" She looked young and uncertain.

Liam felt trapped. The moment opened up around him as he recalled a wooden hut on a distant snow-covered mountain and the Doi woman who'd told him his fortune. There was a hush in the room as they waited on his reply, and Liam imagined that if he only had the proper kind of vision he'd be able to see the gods sitting above him, peering down, laying well-bred bets over their game-board before the next move was made. He was angry, because they weren't his God, and he wasn't a fuckin' conscript for their battles. But there was Alanna to consider. He wondered, not for the first time, if all the gods' favoured were so blind to fate and the working of "coincidence" in their life as she. Perhaps it was as necessary to the Lioness' make-up as her uncommon abilities, her fighting spirit, and the way she inspired loyalty and love in others. Alanna believed in her King and her country's future with all her heart, and she was going to need every bit of help she could get in the coming fight. And Liam was the Shang Dragon; the only Shang of his generation to take on Dragon status, knowing full well no Dragon had ever lived past the age of forty. And he had never in his life backed down from a fight.

"Goin' with you I expect," said Liam gruffly. Reality closed in again, even as in his mind's eye a new piece was clicked into place on the celestial game-board and his fate sealed.

The smile Alanna gave him was so full of glowing relief that he found it hard to mind.


End file.
